


Call Me Anything You Want

by Auber_Gine_Dreams



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Deadpool Fusion, Blow Jobs, Developing Relationship, Gun Violence, M/M, Mercenaries, Morally Ambiguous Character, Spideypool but very low key, Strangers to Lovers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-18
Updated: 2021-02-22
Packaged: 2021-03-13 13:33:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,030
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29527140
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Auber_Gine_Dreams/pseuds/Auber_Gine_Dreams
Summary: It’s here that Seungcheol comes face to face with the second thing that caught his attention about the Dead Pool hanging above the bar.There’s a new name written in fresh white chalk.“He’s new,” Seungcheol says.The man is tall and slim and dressed all in black, dark hair hanging in front of his eyes. There’s blood on his knuckles that glistens in the dim lights. He has a pretty face. Seungcheol kind of wants to fuck him about it.Soonyoung’s voice is weary behind him.“Something like that.”
Relationships: Choi Seungcheol | S.Coups/Jeon Wonwoo
Comments: 46
Kudos: 91





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Well this sure is a thing that happened! I want to preface by saying I am not an expert at Marvel, the MCU, Spideypool or anything like that. This is all in good fun!!
> 
> I just think chaotic neutral mercenary Seungcheol is something that can be so Personal. I tried to write this with the spirit of Deadpool in mind. So, expect some fourth wall breaks and/or characters who seem to know things they shouldn't.

_Love always wakes the dragon and suddenly flames everywhere._ _  
__I can tell already you think I’m the dragon, that would be so like me, but I’m not._ _  
__I’m not the dragon. I’m not the princess either._ _  
__Who am I?  
-Richard Siken_

  
  


Let’s set the scene. Some hole in the wall bar in the middle of the city, a place people only go when they have business that requires discretion and muscle. Or guns. Actually, most of the time it’s guns. The bar is dimly lit, patrons all sat at tables like regulars, like people who aren’t too friendly with strangers. There’s a chalkboard tacked above the bar, numbers written next to names. 

Let’s scan the crowd next. No one stands out. Doesn’t the hero always stand out? His hair should be blonde, or silver, or neon pink. Maybe a halo of light shines down, lighting him up like the chosen one. 

Maybe in another story, in another time. But this isn’t about meeting a hero. It’s about meeting a man. Tall, dark hair, attractive, in the prime of his life or whatever bullshit people say. He’s good or bad depending on what the job asks of him. 

Seungcheol’s feet make no noise on the wooden floor. He slides up to the bar, a business card between his index and middle finger. The man behind the bar, blonde, takes it. 

(He’s not the hero. Don’t get distracted, now.)

“Great work as always,” the man says, smile a bit too big to feel genuine crossing his face. 

“Yeah, yeah. Give me the cash, Soonyoung,” Seungcheol says. 

Soonyoung turns to face the wall of bottles, producing a wad of cash and a glass of warm whiskey that he tucks into Seungcheol’s waiting hand. Seungcheol slips the cash into his front pocket and downs half the drink before he grins.

“Always a pleasure.”

Soonyoung waves him off with fake shyness. Seungcheol’s eyes linger on the board above the bar. Two things catch his attention. First, the amount of money next to his name is higher than it was before the job. 

He eyes Soonyoung with a frown. 

“Who’s betting on me?” he asks. 

Soonyoung doesn’t even grant him fake sympathy. Instead, he smirks.

“Me. Obviously.” He swipes the glass from Seungcheol’s hand and downs the rest of his drink. “You shot some ex-pat in the foot. They say he’s got syndicate connections back in the States. It’s just a matter of time before your finger gets mailed to me with a big red bow tied around it.”

“Hope it’s the middle one, dick.” Seungcheol runs a hand through his hair and sighs. “He was a spoiled little rich brat. He stepped on my new shoes. Was I just supposed to let that slide?”

“You poor thing,” Soonyoung deadpans.

There’s a noise from across the room. A man lands on one of the tables, cracking through it. Seungcheol’s eyes follow the wide berth left behind in his wake. It’s here that Seungcheol comes face to face with the second thing that caught his attention about the Dead Pool hanging above the bar. 

There’s a new name written in fresh white chalk.

“He’s new,” Seungcheol says. 

The man is tall and slim and dressed all in black, dark hair hanging in front of his eyes. There’s blood on his knuckles that glistens in the dim lights. He has a pretty face. Seungcheol kind of wants to fuck him about it.

Soonyoung’s voice is weary behind him.

“Something like that.”

🕷

This is how Seungcheol finds himself in the bathroom of his favorite bar, his mouth around the dick of some guy he just met. 

Wonwoo. _Right._ That’s his name. It was a very quick introduction. Very _you tell me yours and I’ll tell you mine, hey, can I suck you off in the bathroom?_ He’d taken the time to look Seungcheol up and down before his eyes lingered on his mouth. 

“Lead the way,” he said. And Seungcheol did, right to his knees.

There aren’t a lot of bets placed on Wonwoo in the Dead Pool. Which is kind of concerning. Wonwoo’s eyes are dark in a way that the shiny new ones usually lack. Makes all the hair on the back of Seungcheol’s neck stand up.

The new ones always make mistakes. They end up dead pretty quickly. A single shot to the head if they’re lucky. Sometimes they get bits of themselves mailed to Soonyoung. No one saves them, but no one in this life really expects to be saved. In the end, it’s easy money and the remaining patrons of Soonyoung’s bar buy a round for everyone in their honor. The only exception to this is Mingyu, who by the grace of God alone is still among the living after three years at the top of the board. A man that prone to accidents really shouldn’t be in the mercenary business. 

The fingers tangled in Seungcheol’s hair tighten. Right. He should really focus on sucking dick. Seungcheol pulls back and wraps his hand around Wonwoo’s cock while he tongues at the sensitive spot under the head. 

Wonwoo swears under his breath and thrusts into Seungcheol’s mouth. He moves his hand in time with Wonwoo’s thrusts, works him until Wonwoo’s breathing comes faster. Seungcheol is aching in his pants. He wonders if he could renegotiate. Trade a blow job for fucking Seungcheol until he can’t walk. Wonwoo is slender but he’s surprisingly strong under all that loose black clothing. He could definitely fuck Seungcheol into next week.

Seungcheol moves his hand out of the way and squeezes the backs of Wonwoo’s thighs, taking him all the way to the back of his throat. Wonwoo swears again, still low, like he doesn’t think he’s allowed to say bad words or something. Seungcheol might take the time to unpack that later. Depends on if he gets to come or not. Wonwoo comes down his throat without a warning and Seungcheol stares at him the whole time. It’s not romantic. Really. He just wants to see what he looks like all blissed out like that. 

As soon as Wonwoo’s hand is out of his hair and his dick is out of Seungcheol’s mouth he tugs Wonwoo onto the frankly _gross_ bathroom floor and kisses him, shoving the last traces of his come into Wonwoo’s mouth. He’s nice enough to unzip Seungcheol’s jeans and wrap a hand around him, lets Seungcheol buck into the friction and pant into his mouth until he comes. 

Wonwoo kisses the corner of his mouth and rinses his hand in the sink. 

“You in the city long?” Seungcheol asks, straightening himself before he stands up. His knees are throbbing but he doesn’t really care. 

Wonwoo looks at him through the grimy mirror. God, Soonyoung really needs to take care of this. Doesn’t he know people hook up in here?

“I live here if that’s what you’re asking.”

Seungcheol reaches out to lay a hand on Wonwoo’s shoulder only to find himself face first against the wall, arm pinned uncomfortably behind his back. 

“Okay, show off. I already saw your little performance earlier.” Wonwoo’s hand tightens on his wrist. Seungcheol has a knife tip pressed into Wonwoo’s thigh. “Do you wanna do this again sometime?”

“You make a habit of fucking around in bathrooms?”

Seungcheol laughs, glancing at Wonwoo out of the corner of his eye. “I’d make a habit of fucking around with you anywhere.”

Seungcheol leaves the bar with an already purpling bruise around his wrist and a new number in his phone. 

He puts a little spider emoji next to Wonwoo’s name. It’s definitely not romantic and only because he’s hot and dangerous. 

(That’s what _you_ think.)

🕷

The next bit plays out like this. Seungcheol takes jobs. He saves people, he kills people, he does what is asked of him when he feels like it and then he gets paid. Seungcheol rides Wonwoo with his windows wide open, the sounds of it only drowned out by the sirens that are always wailing outside of his apartment. 

What more does a man like Seungcheol need, really? Isn’t this the kind of life a no good mercenary would dream of?

Seungcheol cooks Wonwoo breakfast, this time. The first time Wonwoo showed up at his apartment was a very one night stand kind of thing. They fucked and Wonwoo left. It was a comfortable routine until it wasn’t anymore, until Seungcheol pulled Wonwoo closer in his sleep and told him to stay, and Wonwoo settled against him like he was always supposed to be there. 

So, he makes breakfast and Wonwoo feeds him an orange segment. Seungcheol is pretty sure this is what falling in love feels like, the squeezing ache in his chest. He chases Wonwoo’s fingers and sucks the taste off of them. 

“You’re not really a mercenary, are you?” Seungcheol asks when Wonwoo takes his fingers back. 

He’s got this funny habit of pushing invisible glasses up his nose. Like he’s just switched to wearing contacts. Or like he just got Lasik. 

He shakes his head and Seungcheol hums. 

“Didn’t think so. You’re not a mercenary but you _are_ something. No one can be as hot as you and not have some kind of baggage.” Seungcheol presses a kiss to the corner of his mouth and Wonwoo sighs.

“You hardly know anything about me,” Wonwoo says. “Besides, it’s not like a normal person would waltz into a known mercenary hideout for no reason.”

And, well, that might be true. A few months of only meeting each other once a week at best is hardly enough time to learn anything about a person. Or fall in love.

Seungcheol has always been bad at doing things the way they ought to be done. That’s probably how he ended up where he is in the first place.

“How many more breakfasts do I have to cook before I unlock Wonwoo’s big bad secret?”

Seungcheol steals an orange segment from the plate and holds it out for Wonwoo. It’s only fair. Wonwoo sets the plate on the side table before he takes it, sucking Seungcheol’s fingers into his mouth with it. 

When he swallows he falls back against the bed, pulling Seungcheol on top of him. There’s a warmth to his eyes that flows through Seungcheol like electricity.

“I think it’ll take more than your passable cooking to get that information. Got anything else you can trade for it?”

God. He’s really going to fall in love with this man. 

  
  


🕷

Seungcheol runs into Wonwoo in the middle of a job. Well, the end of one, really. The man pinned under his weight begs for his life. He might say something about a wife, please don’t, I’m innocent and all that. Seungcheol stopped paying attention the minute he saw Wonwoo in his dark jeans and skin-tight turtleneck. Like some kind of sexy cat burglar. 

Wonwoo looks into the alley and sees him, eyes widening. He does that thing where he pushes up his invisible glasses. 

“Hi, honey,” Seungcheol calls. He waves his hand, the one with the gun. The man under him tries to throw his weight and get Seungcheol off of him. Seungcheol presses on his shoulder with his other hand, frowning down at him.

Wonwoo is a few feet away when the man hits Seungcheol in the face. The inside of his mouth tastes like blood.

Wonwoo says his name softly. Like a prayer. Like a lover, maybe. 

Seungcheol presses his gun into the man’s eye and pulls the trigger. 

  
  


After, Wonwoo follows him home. Seungcheol can feel bits of dried blood flecked across his face. The inside of his mouth still tastes like metal. 

“Jesus, Seungcheol,” Wonwoo says from behind him. “What the fuck was that?”

“It kind of feels like you didn’t really understand what we do at the School for Wayward Girls.” Seungcheol stops walking. When he turns around, Wonwoo is closer to him than he expects. “If someone pays me to kill someone, then I kill them. Unless I like them, and then I don’t.”

Wonwoo is quiet. What drops into the pit of Seungcheol’s stomach is fear. Icy and terrible. He looks at Wonwoo and he sees the months they’ve known each other slip through his fingers like sand. He doesn’t mean to do it. He looks into Wonwoo’s eyes, he turns around, and he starts running. 

Wonwoo yells his name but Seungcheol can’t really stop now. This is so embarrassing. It’s more embarrassing when Seungcheol hits the pavement, his hands the only thing keeping his face from being skinned all to hell. 

He rolls onto his back only for Wonwoo to press what has to be more than his entire body weight against Seungcheol’s shoulders with his hands. Seungcheol is fit. It’s a part of the job. It wouldn’t even be bragging to say that he’s stronger than most men he knows. How the fuck is Wonwoo this _strong?_

“Can we please just talk about this?” Wonwoo grits out. 

Seungcheol struggles against him, plants his feet in an effort to throw Wonwoo off.

“So, you’re not a mercenary and you’ve never killed anyone. Does that cover it?” Seungcheol asks, breathless. “What the fuck were you doing in the bar, Wonwoo? What are you doing with _me?_ ”

It’s like a dam has broken. He’s started and now he can’t stop. This is why he usually sticks to quick lays. He never should have taken Wonwoo’s number. He never should have — 

“Shut up,” Wonwoo says, well, it’s more like he growls it, hand coming up to Seungcheol’s mouth to keep him from protesting. “Listen to me. You’re right. I’ve never killed anyone before. And I don’t want to. Not if I can help it.”

Then what the fuck are we doing? Seungcheol tries to say it around the press of Wonwoo’s hand, but nothing comes out. 

“I really like you, Seungcheol. I don’t care that this is the life you’ve chosen. I mean, I do. I mean.” He lets his hand fall from Seungcheol’s mouth and sighs. “I don’t think you’re a bad guy. I’m just gonna need some time to figure this out.”

Wonwoo kisses him. It’s a gentle thing, something that must be treated with care in order to stay alive. It sits in Seungcheol’s gut like lead. 

When Wonwoo leaves Seungcheol is still on the ground. He looks up at the sky choked over with smog and he wonders if this is the end of the story. 

(It isn’t. Of course it isn’t. What about the hero?)

🕷

Seungcheol is walking home from a job and suddenly he’s thrown into a brick wall. The impact is enough to knock all the breath from his lungs. He tries to breathe and chokes. That can’t be good. 

He manages to roll over, still on the ground. The man above him seems way too average to have tossed him like a rag doll. Seungcheol blinks and that’s when he sees four mechanical arms like tentacles, the tips snapping at the empty air. 

Okay. That explains that. 

“Who the fuck are you?” Seungcheol gasps as soon as he can take a breath. 

“You’re in my way,” the man says, not a hint of humor in his voice.

“Well, you’ve certainly taken care of me,” Seungcheol says. He staggers to his feet only for one of the mechanical arms to clamp down on his shoulder. “You can be on your way now.”

“I don’t think so.”

Sometimes you anticipate a hit, and sometimes you let your body go limp so it hurts less. This is one of those times. Seungcheol shuts his eyes and relaxes his entire body. He waits. 

He waits.

He…

He opens his eyes to find the mechanical arm is slowly loosening, ripped clean from the man who held him. The man himself is halfway down the alley, remaining arms snapping at a man who is flipping around like a fucking gymnast. 

Seungcheol would know the shape of those shoulders anywhere. 

“Wonwoo?” he calls, tossing the metal arm to the pavement. 

Wonwoo spins in the air and grins. “Hi, honey.”

Seungcheol watches like a dead fish while Wonwoo dodges hits and lands blow after blow on a man who definitely has some kind of super enhancement. Wonwoo makes it look easy. Seungcheol really wants to fuck him about it. 

In no time at all the man is unconscious, the tentacle arms going still next to him. Seungcheol jogs over, a cautious hand on his own ribs. Something should really be broken. It’s a miracle he’s still standing.

(A miracle. Right.)

“Shit,” Seungcheol says. He stares between the man on the ground and Wonwoo. There’s barely a scratch on him, a bruise on his cheek, a speck of dried blood at the corner of his mouth. “You always fight like this?”

Wonwoo’s grin is lopsided. “It’s a little new. I’m still getting used to it.”

Seungcheol kind of can’t help himself. He stares at Wonwoo and then he brings his knee up to Wonwoo’s stomach, hoping to catch him off guard. He doesn’t. Wonwoo’s smile is all teeth when he catches Seungcheol around the waist. It feels dangerous in a way that sets Seungcheol’s whole body on fire.

“You some kind of superhero, Wonwoo?” Seungcheol asks.

Wonwoo looks into his eyes. Really looks. His hands are warm where they touch. 

“I guess you could call me a regular neighborhood Spider Man.”

(See? The hero was here all along.)

The kiss is one of those heart-stopping, foot-off-the-ground kisses. Wonwoo kisses him and Seungcheol kisses him back and it feels like everything is okay. And sure, maybe they need words. Maybe they have a lot to talk about. 

Maybe Seungcheol doesn’t really care. 

The kiss lasts long enough that the man Wonwoo put on the ground groans as he wakes up. Wonwoo pulls back and rolls his eyes, pressing a final kiss to his mouth before walking over to the man and gripping him by the collar.

“Wait. If you’re Spider Man then what does that make me?” Seungcheol asks. “I’m hardly your Mary Jane.”

Half of Wonwoo’s face is hidden in shadow, unreadable. His lips are red and slick. Seungcheol wants to kiss him again. 

Wonwoo taps his own ribs, the spot where Seungcheol hit the wall. The spot that should be cracked and broken, but somehow isn’t. 

“I think you’ve already figured it out.”

Wonwoo’s smile is bordering on mischievous when he walks out of the alley and into the street, dragging the man behind him.

Seungcheol watches him go. He thinks about the dumb shit you do when you’re too young to think about consequences. He thinks about the past, the feeling of being hooked up to a bag of liquid that had no business being such a fluorescent shade of blue. He thinks about the sting of failing a program he wasn’t even sure he wanted to participate in. 

He thinks about how when things didn’t pan out he ended up working as anyone’s hired gun, getting paid more in thanks from little old ladies he helped cross the street than the wads of cash Soonyoung would give him for shooting nameless men in their kitchens. 

But wait. If Wonwoo is _really_ Spider Man, if he’s really got those cool mutations and enhancements, then doesn’t that make Seungcheol — 

Well. Shit.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wonwoo presses a kiss to the corner of his mouth. “It’s not like you’re the classic idea of Deadpool yourself.”
> 
> Well, he has a point there. Seungcheol is thankfully still as hot as he was before the whole super healing thing. There’s no reason to hide his face behind a mask other than for the aesthetic. 
> 
> Seungcheol rolls on top of Wonwoo and kisses him, grinding their hips together until Wonwoo is bucking against him impatiently.
> 
> “Oh my god,” he says when they break apart. “I need to get some swords.”
> 
> Wonwoo groans.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't know this was going to happen. Have some more Spideypool <3

“Okay, so you’re Spider Man. Very attractive, by the way, _very_ sexy,” Seungcheol says. “Top three superheroes I would want to fuck.”

He’s propped on his side, rain pelting the windows of his apartment. Wonwoo is shirtless in the bed beside him. There’s a welt across his ribs Seungcheol assumes is from whatever villain of the week has been chasing Wonwoo around the city. They don’t talk about their jobs much. It always starts with Wonwoo trying to be a good superhero and ends with Seungcheol having to talk his way around the number of hits he’s taken on.

“And _you_ have superhuman healing abilities,” Wonwoo says with a lazy grin. “You know, I’m pretty sure there’s a hero name staring you in the face every day. If only you could figure out what it was.”

“Speaking of Dead Pools and what I will or will not call myself, are you ever going to tell me what brought you to Sister Margaret’s?”

Wonwoo sighs, running a hand through his hair absently. Seungcheol can’t stop thinking about how hot he is. That’s the other reason they don’t talk about their jobs much. They’re usually a bit preoccupied with each other any time they’re together. Not that Seungcheol is complaining. 

(God. Imagine complaining about having regular, fantastic sex with Spider Man.)

“I’ve known Soonyoung since we were kids. When things started to, uh, _change_ , I tracked him down. He told me that instead of freaking out I should just test my limits. If I was strong enough to knock one of those guys on his ass then I should just accept that I’ve got superpowers.”

Soonyoung. Well, maybe he _was_ the hero after all. Seungcheol should buy him a drink. Offer him a courteous, not at all romantic hand job. Wait. Back up. Does that make _Soonyoung_ Wonwoo’s Mary Jane? No. Nope. He’s not gonna unpack that at all.

“So you came to a bar full of mercenaries, knocked a guy out, and decided to let a handsome stranger blow you in the bathroom.” Seungcheol grins, pulling Wonwoo closer under the blankets. “You’re just different from what I thought Spider Man would be like. I mean, the only place on your body I’ve ever seen you shoot stuff is —”

Wonwoo’s hand curls around his bicep, nose tracing his jaw as he leans closer.

“If you finish that sentence I’m going to walk out of here, so help me god.” Seungcheol huffs and Wonwoo presses a kiss to the corner of his mouth. “It’s not like you’re the classic idea of Deadpool yourself.”

Well, he has a point there. Seungcheol is thankfully still as hot as he was before the whole super healing thing. There’s no reason to hide his face behind a mask other than for the aesthetic. 

Seungcheol rolls on top of Wonwoo and kisses him, grinding their hips together until Wonwoo is bucking against him impatiently.

“Oh my god,” he says when they break apart. “I need to get some swords.”

Wonwoo groans.

🕷

So, Seungcheol gets a suit and Wonwoo is the first person to see it. Red, because who is he to break convention? He’s already lucked out in the whole becoming Deadpool department, and honestly, matching with Wonwoo is pretty cute. He gets the swords, too, to Wonwoo’s utter dismay. 

“If you get to swing around on webs then why can’t I deflect bullets with swords?” Seungcheol asks him. He turns in a circle and Wonwoo stares at the way the fabric hugs him. Seungcheol is certain Wonwoo’s is tighter, but he’s not going to nit-pick.

“Do you even know how to do that? You’re just going to kill people with them,” Wonwoo says. “Again, really wish you wouldn’t do that.”

“And what? Become an X-man or something? Operating outside of the super hero realm has a lot of advantages, you know.”

Wonwoo stands and walks closer, arms fitting around his shoulders. Sunlight pours through his window and Wonwoo is glowing. Seungcheol is so in love with him it makes him feel dizzy sometimes. 

“I just want you to think about it. I understand that we’re looking at this from two different perspectives.” Wonwoo’s hand strokes the length of the sword strapped to his back. “You’re a good person, Seungcheol. You want to do the right thing, even if that means getting your hands dirty. I get that. Just, don’t be rash about it? Okay?”

(Ah yes. And here we come to the heart of things. A moral compass. A guiding light in the darkness. Isn’t that what love is all about? Wait...are they in _love?!)_

Seungcheol’s hands find Wonwoo’s waist. He leans closer until their foreheads are touching. “Okay. I’ll try.”

🕷

The first time he sees Wonwoo being Spider Man is because, as it turns out, they’re following the same man. 

(Spin a wheel. Throw a dart. There are way too many villains to choose from. He can be anyone you want.)

Anyway, generic villain tosses Wonwoo against a dumpster just as Seungcheol manages to track the guy down. Wonwoo is shaking the dizziness away and Seungcheol pulls out his gun and fires, just missing the guy’s shoulder. 

“Need a hand, honey?” Seungcheol says. He kind of hates the mask sometimes. The man should see just how pissed off he is. 

Wonwoo rubs at his shoulder before turning to face him, wrist pointed at the villain. 

Wow. So he really _does_ have those neat web shooters. 

The web hits the villain in the chest and sticks him firmly to the wall. He struggles against it, manages to tear about half of it off before Wonwoo punches him in the face. 

“I think I’ve got it covered,” he says. At least Seungcheol can hear his grin even if he can’t see it. 

By the time Seungcheol makes it to them, the villain has pulled most of the webbing off, swinging his leg at Wonwoo’s face. He dodges easily, makes to shoot another string of webbing, but the man is fast. Superhuman fast. He pulls a gun and fires.

How many months has it been? Honestly, Seungcheol has lost count. Probably less than a year, but that hardly matters. Wonwoo is funny and smart and hot and the only person Seungcheol has ever really cared about this much. 

(It’s really love, isn’t it?)

Seungcheol watches the whole thing in slow motion. And yeah, it _definitely_ happens in slow motion. Through sheer force of will (the whole superpowers thing helps, too), Seungcheol manages to put himself between the bullet and Wonwoo just in time. It hits Seungcheol right in the chest. He drops to the ground.

Name one hero who was happy.

  
  
  
  
  


Well, thank god Seungcheol isn’t a hero. 

Wonwoo’s arms are around his shoulders. He’s whispering something. _Stay with me, Seungcheol. Please, god, please be okay._

It’s like he forgot Seungcheol’s whole thing is that he can’t die. 

Seungcheol groans as the bullet works free from his chest and clatters to the pavement. The villain has already started running, Wonwoo’s perception narrowed down to the bullet hole in Seungcheol’s chest.

“Look away for just a second, sweetheart,” Seungcheol grits out. 

He reaches between them and takes a sword from his back. He tosses it, hard. It sinks into the villain’s shoulder and he falls to the ground screaming.

He expects Wonwoo to chastise him. He’s the moral compass, after all. He should still be pretty upset. Seungcheol could have killed that guy. Instead his arms tighten around Seungcheol as he buries his face against his neck. Seungcheol does his best to wind his arms around Wonwoo.

“Only one of us was going to live through a bullet in the chest,” Seungcheol says. Wonwoo pushes his shoulder roughly but then he’s laughing, that relieved kind of sound you only make after making it through something terrible. 

“And I thought you weren’t the hero kind,” Wonwoo says. “Thanks. I guess I’ll let the sword slide, this time.”

Seungcheol turns and presses a kiss to Wonwoo’s masked cheek. He hopes that Wonwoo can feel it. The villain is still on the ground, reaching desperately for the sword stuck through his body. To be fair, it’s not like Seungcheol was _trying_ to kill him. It’s no surprise he’s still feisty.

“You’re not gonna let me collect my fee for him, are you?” Seungcheol asks suddenly, the realization that they are after the same man finally sinking in.

Wonwoo stands up and holds out a hand for Seungcheol.

“Nope.”

🕷

They move in together. People are getting suspicious of Spider Man’s location, and it would be better for Wonwoo to frequent a different side of the city. The other reason is that Seungcheol asks him to. 

It goes like this. Wonwoo has Seungcheol pinned to the bed with just his hands on his hips, Seungcheol’s cock hitting the back of his throat with every bob of his head. He is _way_ too good at this, like the kind of good that comes from enjoyment and not from obligation. 

_“Fuck,”_ Seungcheol breathes, hand fisted in the back of Wonwoo’s hair. He tries to buck up into Wonwoo’s mouth but he’s trapped under all that super strength. Again, very sexy.

Wonwoo looks up at him through his lashes, bobbing his head in a torturous rhythm. 

“Move in with me,” Seungcheol says.

Wonwoo comes off his dick and wraps a hand around him, eyebrows raised. “What did you say?”

At least now he can chase the friction, and he does, rolling his hips against Wonwoo’s hand.

“I want you to move in with me.”

Wonwoo’s lips are slick and red and there’s the lightest flush across his cheeks. He’s stunning. Seungcheol wants to get fucked about it very badly.

“You’re serious,” Wonwoo says.

“Of course I’m serious.” Seungcheol props up on his elbows and takes Wonwoo’s other hand off his hip, lacing their fingers together. “I want to live with you. I want you to fuck me. I’m in love with you. Dead serious.”

Wonwoo’s hand stills against his cock. He looks dazed, like someone just knocked him into a wall. Seungcheol is only a little terrified that he’s misread their entire relationship.

(Love is a many splendored thing. Love makes us act like we are fools. Love is a chain with a manacle at each end.)

“Is this your usual method for dropping really important information?” Wonwoo asks. He settles on top of Seungcheol, resting their linked hands above his head. “Tell everyone you’re in love with them and want to live with them over a blow job?”

Wonwoo isn’t freaking out. Great, perfect, exactly what Seungcheol was hoping for. Not that Seungcheol was _actually_ worried. If Wonwoo wasn’t a little in love with him he definitely wouldn’t come over so much.

“Just you,” Seungcheol says. Wonwoo’s face is so close he could count his eyelashes if he wanted. “I’ve never asked anyone else.”

And that makes something dark and hungry settle behind Wonwoo’s eyes. Something very not suitable for a straight-laced superhero which makes it unbelievably hot. 

“I’m in love with you,” Seungcheol says again. He kind of never wants to stop saying it. “I love you, Wonwoo.”

Wonwoo kisses him. It’s another one of those fireworks in the sky, life-changing kind of kisses, full of emotion and tongue and teeth. 

“I love you, too,” Wonwoo says.

“So, that’s a yes?”

Wonwoo nods. Seungcheol bucks up against him with a smirk. 

“Great. Wanna fuck me now?”

Wonwoo makes Seungcheol come twice because he’s sweet like that. Seungcheol pays him back in kind and washes his hair in the shower after. 

There’s one more thing. One more important bit. Seungcheol has to ask because the future is vast and unknown.

“What happens when I’m the bad guy you have to catch?” he asks when they’re both back in bed. 

Wonwoo’s eyes widen just a little in the dark. 

“You won’t be,” he says. The certainty of it makes Seungcheol feel all warm and fuzzy inside. 

(Maybe it’s the truth. Maybe the hero wins, our main character changed by the power of love.)

Seungcheol runs a hand through his still damp hair. He’s staring at the ceiling. Honestly, he’s a little afraid to see Wonwoo’s face. The certainty there, or the lack of it.

“But what if I am?”

Wonwoo sighs. He shifts closer and rests his head against Seungcheol’s shoulder. He smells like Seungcheol’s shampoo. It’s horribly domestic. 

“If you think about it, you’ve had superpowers a lot longer than me. You’ve been in the mercenary business, what, four or five years?” Seungcheol shrugs and Wonwoo kisses the side of his neck. “If you were going to be branded a bad guy it would have happened before now.”

“I guess you have a point,” Seungcheol says. He turns on his side to face him. 

“I’m right. Eventually you’re going to figure that out.” Wonwoo is always just a little more sexy when he’s sure of himself. 

It takes the rhythmic sound of Wonwoo’s breathing to lull him to sleep. He keeps thinking about how the rest of the conversation would play out. How if someone hired Seungcheol to kill Wonwoo he would shoot not only the messenger but the entire chain of bastards who led to the hit.

How if Wonwoo had to bring Seungcheol down, he’s not really sure if Wonwoo could even look him in the eye when he locked him in the van that would take him to the Ice Box.

🕷

Ajax. Like the soap. Or maybe like the god (but probably like the soap). Seungcheol meets him on the way to collect payment for a hit and immediately hates him. He’s fast, he’s strong, and apparently, he feels no pain. Seungcheol finds this last bit out the hard way. He fires a shot that pierces Ajax through the shoulder and he closes in, confident that the man is staggered. 

And then his eyes flash and Seungcheol is tossed into the side of a car hard enough to warp the metal around him.

The inside of his mouth tastes like blood. Pieces of car are embedded in his skin. 

“I lost my nerve endings during the mutation process,” Ajax says, like Seungcheol gives a shit. “I don’t feel pain.”

“Great,” Seungcheol coughs, bits of metal falling out of his skin and onto the ground. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

The fight is a fresh and fun mix of swords, guns, and fists. Seungcheol runs out of bullets and pulls out a sword just in time to block a particularly impressive car door swing. Not that the sword helps much. Seungcheol’s back slams into a light pole, pain crackling through his spine. 

The thing about super healing is that the healing isn’t very pleasant. Seungcheol can feel the way his bones fracture and repair every single time. _God_ what he wouldn’t give for some of that no pain shit.

By the time the fight gets to fists, Seungcheol’s mask is nearly off his face. One of his swords is snapped in half and the other is in the street, seconds from being run over by oncoming traffic. Seungcheol slams his shoulder into Ajax and drops him to the ground, strikes him as hard as he can in the jaw. Even if he can’t feel pain, surely a mild concussion will slow him down. Seungcheol is willing to give it a shot. He gets his hands on either side of Ajax’s head, ready to slam his skull into the ground, but before he can he’s hit in the chest hard enough to knock him off the man.

It’s only fitting that Wonwoo would swing in. Literally. Seungcheol tugs his mask down and waves even as Ajax slams into his back and jerks his arm behind him so hard it snaps.

“Do you mind?” Seungcheol asks. “I’m trying to say hi to my boyfriend.”

“You think I give a shit about that?” Ajax twists his arm harder. The bones try to knit back together but break all over again. 

Wonwoo shoots webbing in his face and kicks him hard enough to get him off Seungcheol.

“Need a hand, honey?” Wonwoo asks. 

(Do they have to keep calling back to each other like this? You’re in love. _We get it._ )

He helps Seungcheol stand, hand gingerly at his elbow. The bones mend under Wonwoo’s touch and he doesn’t even flinch. Seungcheol is going to kiss him exactly one hundred times later.

They don’t really coordinate anything. Seungcheol strikes and Wonwoo follows. The two of them fight like they’ve practiced it hundreds of times (they haven’t. Well, unless you count —). 

Ajax lands a kick on Wonwoo’s stomach that sends him into the wall. Seungcheol picks up a piece of shattered glass and jabs it into the side of his neck. It’s not enough to kill him, just enough to distract him while Seungcheol glances over to Wonwoo.

“You okay, sweetheart?” he calls. 

Wonwoo waves a flippant hand in front of his face. 

“So I’m your boyfriend now?”

Seungcheol dodges a set of punches and lets out the loudest sigh he can manage. 

“We live together. I literally told you I loved you before I left this afternoon. In what way are we not boyfriends?”

Wonwoo shoots some webbing that coats Ajax’s fist just before it makes contact with Seungcheol’s sternum. He yanks as hard as he can and Ajax stumbles. 

“You’ve never said it before,” Wonwoo says. 

So much for I love you being the most important words in a relationship. Seungcheol is going to make this up to him later. Really. 

Seungcheol sweeps Ajax’s legs out from under him. The sound he makes when he hits the ground isn’t satisfying enough. 

When Wonwoo jumps over to him Seungcheol has managed to locate one of the broken halves of his sword. He’s holding it against Ajax’s throat. 

“You know, you’ve got a shitty name. Ajax? What _is_ that?” Seungcheol asks. 

“Dead —” Wonwoo starts. Seungcheol holds his other hand up, silencing him.

“What’s your deal, anyway? Why come after me? And why would you do something as idiotic as involve my boyfriend?” He presses the blade in tighter. A line of red appears in its wake. “I’ve killed people for far less.”

“You don’t remember me,” Ajax says. When he grins there’s blood on his teeth. “That’s fine. I never forget my failures. Well, I guess you’re not a failure anymore, are you?”

Of course. The past always comes back when you do shit without thinking about what you’re signing up for. That fucking program. He’s blocked out a lot of it, but he sees flashes sometimes. Being strapped to a medical table. Voices. _What’s my name?_

“So you’re here to clean up after yourself?” Seungcheol asks.

“Might as well kill two pesky birds with one stone.”

Ajax lunges forward as if the sword at his throat isn’t there. Seungcheol hesitates, feels Wonwoo’s eyes on him. A test he wants very desperately to pass.

But then he kicks Seungcheol right in the chest, using the momentum of it to flip backward and to his feet.

“I’m afraid I have another appointment,” he says. “I’ll be back for you two some other time.”

And then he turns and walks away. What the fuck kind of person is this guy? Seungcheol sees red. He raises his sword, ready to toss it into the back of that asshole’s skull, but before he decides to let it fly Ajax is sliding into a dark car and speeding off into the night. 

Seungcheol tosses the sword anyway, letting out a frustrated growl. 

He turns around to see that Wonwoo is gone, too. The first thing that hits him is fear. Where the hell would he have gone at a time like this? Calm down. Calm down. It’s not like Wonwoo is a normal human. He’s got superpowers for God’s sake! He’s really strong and surprisingly good at fighting for someone who probably didn’t do much of it before the whole Spider Man thing.

There’s a tap on his shoulder. Seungcheol whips around and Wonwoo is there, hanging upside down from a strand of webbing.

“Are you okay?” Wonwoo asks. He reaches out and touches Seungcheol’s chest, fingers grazing past the holes left behind by pieces of metal. 

“I’m fine. Regeneration, remember?” Seungcheol strokes Wonwoo’s cheek through his mask. “How about you?”

“I’ll be fine.” He takes a breath that hitches on the exhale. “Okay, maybe a little sore tomorrow.”

“Thanks for coming to the rescue,” Seungcheol says. His thumb traces at the seam of Wonwoo’s mask. “Can I show my appreciation as your boyfriend?”

“What did you have in mind?”

“Don’t act like you don’t know. You set yourself up for this,” Seungcheol says. He pulls his mask off because fuck it, it’s not like his identity is some big secret. He pulls Wonwoo’s up to just under his eyes. 

“You only get to do this because you’re my boyfriend,” Wonwoo says when Seungcheol leans closer. “I wouldn’t pull this out for just anyone.”

Seungcheol kisses him. Yes, _that_ kiss. It’s a little strange with Wonwoo upside down, but Seungcheol takes his time with it. There’s probably blood in his mouth. Wonwoo doesn’t seem to mind, though, when their tongues curl together. 

When they break apart Seungcheol presses a kiss to his cheek. 

“You’re fulfilling all my fantasies, babe. Next you’re going to tell me you know the Avengers personally.”

Wonwoo smirks before he pulls the mask back over his mouth and drops to the ground. 

“It’s not like there’s anything to tell. I met them a few times before I got the powers. A few times after, too. They want me to join.”

“Oh my god. So you have a _history_ with them? Professional? Sexual? _Both?_ ” Wonwoo is silent long enough that Seungcheol taps his arm. “Wow. Okay. So how many Avengers _have_ you slept with? Can I get their real names at least? They won’t mean anything to me.”

Wonwoo sweeps him off his feet. Literally. He balances Seungcheol’s weight with one arm and shoots some web up the side of the building.

“Another time. Promise. Hang on tight,” Wonwoo says. He runs, he jumps, and then they’re soaring above the city.

Seungcheol winds his arms around Wonwoo’s neck. When they get home he’s going to order way too much take out and get Wonwoo to tell him about at least one Avenger. Maybe the hot one in the black leather getup. Or the Captain. How is he supposed to choose?

So, maybe the whole Wonwoo being Spider Man thing isn’t so bad. Can the power of love turn Deadpool into a hero full time? Well, Seungcheol doesn’t mind if Wonwoo tries. 

He’s just not going to make promises he can’t keep. 

**Author's Note:**

> Deadpool Seungcheol and his moral compass Wonwoo Spider Man is just <333
> 
> [Twitter](http://www.twitter.com/woncheoling) // [Curious Cat](https://curiouscat.me/tsukkitaeil)


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